Fagering and her Marine colleagues speak to local leaders in Iraq, 2006

Fagering and her Marine colleagues speak to local leaders in Iraq, 2006

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Out back, Fallujah, Iraq, 2006

Out back, Fallujah, Iraq, 2006

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Marine with Iraqi children, Karabyla, Iraq, 2006

Marine with Iraqi children, Karabyla, Iraq, 2006

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Guard tower, Al Asad, Iraq 2006

Guard tower, Al Asad, Iraq 2006

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Marine in Fallujah, Iraq, 2006

Marine in Fallujah, Iraq, 2006

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Memories, Fallujah, Iraq, 2006

Memories, Fallujah, Iraq, 2006

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Marine Sgt. Patricia Ruiz, of Albuquerque, New Mexico, holds a photo of the Marines she served with. "The idea is that it is better to be over there, that she still is in so many ways still over there, where things make more sense and are simpler in a way," Fagering said. "There is little mundane tasks to take care of, no traffic to fight, no figuring out what to eat or buy. It is closer to the edge of life & death - which somehow makes sense. The transition back to this world is difficult, and can take years sometimes." less

Marine Sgt. Patricia Ruiz, of Albuquerque, New Mexico, holds a photo of the Marines she served with. "The idea is that it is better to be over there, that she still is in so many ways still over there, where ... more

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Marine Sgt. Patricia Ruiz, of Albuquerque, New Mexico, mourns those who will never come home.

Marine Sgt. Patricia Ruiz, of Albuquerque, New Mexico, mourns those who will never come home.

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Fagering's friend, Maj. Megan McClung, was killed on December 6, 2006 when her vehicle hit a roadside bomb. "Everyone knew her, she was an exceptional athlete, more energy than humanly possible, smart, funny, & a mentor to so many," Fagering said. "It's hard to talk about." less

Fagering's friend, Maj. Megan McClung, was killed on December 6, 2006 when her vehicle hit a roadside bomb. "Everyone knew her, she was an exceptional athlete, more energy than humanly possible, smart, funny, ... more

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Marine Capt. Jill Leyden was Fagering's roommate in Iraq. She is sitting in front of the grave of their friend, Maj. Megan McClung, who was killed in 2006 when her vehicle rolled over a bomb in the road. This photo was taken on Veterans Day 2010, in Arlington Cemetery. less

Marine Capt. Jill Leyden was Fagering's roommate in Iraq. She is sitting in front of the grave of their friend, Maj. Megan McClung, who was killed in 2006 when her vehicle rolled over a bomb in the road. This ... more

During Fagering’s 2006 deployment, she went door-to-door with another female Marine to talk to Iraqi women — a mission her male counterparts couldn’t do because of cultural taboos. This type of “engagement” carried out by women attached to male infantry and special forces units has become an integral part of the U.S. strategy in Iraq and Afghanistan.

It’s dangerous work. Fagering’s friend, Maj. Megan McClung, was the first female Marine officer to be killed in the Iraq war. She died in a roadside bombing in 2006, devastating their entire brigade. “Everyone knew her, she was an exceptional athlete, more energy than humanly possible, smart, funny, and a mentor to so many,” Fagering said. “It’s hard to talk about.”

The loss of McClung, and the more recent death last month of Army 1st Lt. Ashley White Stumpf, 24, serve as grim reminders that although the military technically bans female service members from combat jobs, women put their lives on the line at war every day, just as men do. White was serving with Army Special Forces in Afghanistan, doing the same sort of female engagement work that Fagering and McClung did in Iraq.

Fagering graciously agreed to share her own photographs from her time in Iraq, which I’ve compiled in a gallery at the top of this post. The images shatter stereotypes and offer a window into the real-life experiences of today’s women warriors.

Below you can read Fagering’s own words about her experience at WISER, where she found a sisterhood of fellow veterans who also wrestled with depression, anxiety and trauma.

A few years ago I was admitted into the VA Hospital for a month stay in a lock-down unit on the Mental Ward for Post Traumatic Stress Disorder. The years following my return from a year in Iraq with the Marine Corps were challenging to put it mildly. It turned out I wasn’t equipped to find my way back from the war zone with all of its death & destruction on my own. Although I was very aware & educated on the subject, I still lacked the skills to maneuver around triggers & keep myself safe. I think the biggest problem was that I was in denial about my skills, abilities & the depth of how depression & PTSD were truly affecting my life.

I was spiraling down fast when I finally admitted to myself that spending some time away from my life focusing on unraveling the meanings I made of everything witnessed & experienced in Iraq would be empowering. I knew I had to do something.

Memories, Fallujah, Iraq, 2006 (Photo by Katariina Fagering)

The program was for women only & they called it WISER (an acronym for something clever about women). I expected the other participants to be combat vets from Iraq & Afghanistan, but as it turned out during this session they were from the Vietnam era & were mostly Military Sexual Trauma victims. In addition, they were all southern women from various backgrounds that didn’t look anything like mine. They were kind but I felt like an odd duck for numerous reasons having to do with education level, income level, interests, time in service, rank, & color of skin. They all seemed to share a common southern language that was spoken quickly & softly using words in contexts I had never heard before. I found myself saying, “huh?” a lot, or just laughing & nodding at everything they said. Most of what they said was usually cracking a joke so laughing was a safe bet. These women loved to laugh, to eat & to smoke.

Marine with Iraqi children in Karabyla, Iraq, 2006 (Photo by Katariina Fagering)

I spent the first week trying to figure out how I had ended up in a cohort of women who were nothing like me. What was the lesson here? Then one day while reading Brian Nepo’s The Book of Awakening, I stumbled upon a page that I had folded, penciled, underlined, & starred with little side notes. It was entitled, Ubuntu. Suddenly I got it!! They were not different from me. They were me & I them. I could not know myself without knowing them with compassion & love. My judgments were more about myself than them. If the women were similar to me, and had been in a combat zone, then perhaps I would have missed my opportunity to focus on myself. As it turned out, I was one of the youngest in the program, I think the oldest was 65 or so. This allowed me to take on a baby role, rather than having to nurture & mother those from the Iraq/Afghanistan era who are much younger. It was serendipitous to land in this pod of women.

The program was a very intense, life-changing four weeks where the life I had been living, the meanings I made of everything, even back to childhood, & the choices I made were all laid out before me & slowly unraveled to make sense or allow it to just not make sense.

I learned a lot during my stay but Ubuntu was one of the juicier lessons learned.

I wrote this poem below while in the hospital & read it to everyone at graduation.

Ubuntu

by Katariina Fagering

I came here afraid, alone and lost. I had forgotten who I was

Wandering in the shadow lands of darkness, I questioned:

How did I get here? Who are these women? Do I belong?

But then a whisper filtered through my heart ~

Ubuntu

I am, because you are.

Suddenly, my sisters appeared and I found me in them.

Ubuntu

I am, because you are.

Because she is nurturing, motherly, love,

Hilarious laughter filling the room,

Sunshine-sweet-southern drawl,

So am I.

Because she is elegant, wise and brilliant,

Seeking, searching and humble,

A courageous, proud, fierce protector,

So am I.

Connecting with heart, I take you in my heart.

Because my sister was raped, I was raped.

Because my sister has HIV, I too have HIV.

Because my sister went to war, I went to war.

Because my sister is an alcoholic, I am an alcoholic.

Because my sister’s mother died, my mother died.

Because my sister has been beaten, raped, humiliated, lost, tossed and mistreated,

So have I.

Ubuntu

I am, because you are.

Togetherwe are reaching out,

Connecting,

Finding love, loving ourselves,

Being Audacious enough. She is enough. I am enough.

All that I witness in you, my sisters,

So am I.

Because you shared the gift of you,

I now know the fullness of me.

Fagering's fellow Marine, Jill Leyden, sits in front of the grave of their friend, Maj. Megan McClung, at Arlington Cemetery. McClung was killed by a roadside bomb in Iraq in 2006. (Reuters)